Red Herring
by FranticAgonist
Summary: What if everything you've read is a myth? What if every one you know is wrong? All you know about vampires has been a lie, just an ancient trap. and now, the trap has been sprung...
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is just a prologue. It's based on twilight and involves some characters, though they may not be named at first. It's a concept I'm really proud of, though I won't reveal more now. I know the prologue isn't much to go on, but I would be incredibly happy if you'll review! :) **

Prlogue

The night tasted of copper and salt.

The man opened his eyes, squinting as a bright light jabbed at him, knife-like. Peering through the brilliant haze, he saw the wavering outline of crescent moon, blinding against the ebony sky.

He stood up and licked his dry lips, tasting the barest traces of a strangely sweet saltiness; He could almost place the flavor. It teased his taste buds, foreign, and yet oddly familiar, but the more he tried to recognize it, the more elusive it seemed to become.

He looked down, away from the silver radiance of the waning moon, his brow furrowed in thought. An inky blot in the graying night drew his downcast eyes, and the smell hit him almost instantly. It tantalized him with a sickening lure, and all at once he knew what it was: human blood.

He hastily backed away, oddly surefooted, appalled by how undeniably appealing he found the sight, scent, and most of all taste of blood. His retreat continued, his steps unfaltering, until he felt solid stone at his back. He had reached a dead end.

Hands groping blindly, he searched for an end to the barrier, desperate to escape the sudden sense of dread that seeped into his bones. Was it just his imagination, or was the air suddenly colder? The temperature seemed to have dropped at least fifteen degrees, and a growing sense of terrible evil shrouded his mind. He had been wondering what could have caused the small pool of blood, and for the first time, a chilling certainty arose; it had not been an accident.

A second, much more terrifying thought suddenly occurred. The attacker was still nearby, he could feel it. An oppressive, undefinable wrongness lay over the alley. It left no visible telltale traces, but instinct screamed louder than reason, warning him. A palpable miasma of vile power blanketed the area in its slimy embrace.

He sat, huddled in that tainted night for what seemed like hours too terrified to risk movement for fear of attracting the demonic presence that lingered in the dead night air.

Gradually, he roused himself, realizing that the only path to freedom lay in the direction he had come from. Resigned, he walked slowly, his steps tentative, ready to flee at the slightest sound. The sense of dread increased with each step, nearly preventing him from going farther. Nevertheless, he continued on, determined to be free of his fear, allowing not even instinct to hamper his path to safety. He knew that safety was relative though, for who could be truly safe in a world where such great evil lurked?

His gaze darted frantically, scanning the shadows for any possible threat. He was so intent upon his fruitless search that he didn't notice the obstacle in his way until he stumbled over it. He looked back, shivering as a sharp breeze sliced through his damp clothing, wishing that the night wasn't so cold. The woman on the ground in front of him however, had no such qualms. A little chill was no bother to the dead.

She stared fixedly at the sky, her once clean dress bloodstained, dark hair splayed on the muddy ground. A silver pendant rested in the hollow where her throat used to be, blood slowly obscuring the once bright metal.

He moved closer, morbid curiosity drawing him in, and hesitantly brushed her hand, which held only the barest warmth. He recoiled, shuddering with disgust, although he couldn't deny a strange rush of…thirst that he felt. It ebbed, then returned just as strongly, almost like a heartbeat. Animal longing replaced disgust, only to surrender to it at the next wave. A gravelly voice whispered in his head, _her blood's still warm._ He shook his head as if to rid himself from the nauseating idea.

He quickly stood up, noticing for the first time that his hand seemed unnaturally pale, even more colorless than the corpse's. It almost appeared to glitter in the moonlight. Figuring it nothing more than a trick of the light, he dismissed it, after all, what kind of person glittered?

He turned his back on the grisly sight, wanting nothing more than to go home. The police were sure to find this victim, so there was no point in even reporting the body. He wanted nothing more than to go home, although he had no idea where 'home' was. He started to walk out of the alley, certain that clean air would jog his memory, but a crowd stopped him.

Even in the dim light, he could see that they looked angry, furious even. A small voice arose from the center of the group,

"It's him! He killed her! He ripped her throat out!"

The bright beams of flashlights stabbed his eyes, harshly illuminating the mauled body at his feet.

"Wait, what do you mean?" he shrieked. "I didn't do anything, she was like this when I found her!"

They said nothing, but he found the one who had originally spoken, a wizened old woman in the center of the group, who tried unsuccessfully to hide the fear in her eyes. As he locked eyes with her, images that were not his own appeared in his mind.

_A tall figure lurked in darkness just beyond the mouth of the alley, a shadow made discernible only by his glowing eyes. The woman walked by, oblivious, intent only on seeking shelter from the biting air. Without warning, the shadow came to life, hands that seemed to glitter reaching out to catch her in a violent embrace and drag her back into the unnatural dark._

_ The victim had no chance to scream before the shadow's elongated canines sank into her neck, cutting off all noise as it tore her throat out. It lifted its head, teeth dimly glinting through a coating of blood, its unnatural eyes meeting his. A sudden shaft of moonlight illuminated a face that was terrifyingly familiar, and he opened his mouth to scream._

He stood, frozen in horror, mouth agape, but unable to scream. The murderous crowd closed in, but he would do nothing to stop them. His last moments would be spent reliving the horror of seeing his own face contorted in bloodlust and dripping crimson when he had taken another's life.


	2. Chapter 1

"No Master, please, have mercy! It was an accident!"

The terrified man's pleas served little purpose beyond arousing Reid's already dangerously short temper. With barely a handful of words, the pathetic human had utterly destroyed any slim chance he may have had for clemency. Realization killed the last hope in the man's eyes, and Reid enjoyed nothing more than watching it hemorrhage, making the weakling's already huge pupils expand even more.

The swine's fear tainted the still air, and Reid's lip curled reflexively in disgust. Human beings were such pathetic creatures, almost deserving of pity. This particular specimen however, had to serve as an example. With a savage snarl, Reid lunged.

The man's panicked cries fell short with a scream, which turned muted and liquid as blood spewed from a fresh wound in his throat.

"Was that really necessary?" drawled a sickly sweet voice, its owner emerging from the shadows a moment later. The statuesque woman sauntered over to him, paying no heed to the bloody tracks that her high heeled boots left on the cement floor.

"You know the protocol as well as I do." Reid replied icily. Just being in the same room with this woman was enough to set his nerves on edge, and he was anxious to be rid of her as soon as possible.

"As I recall, nearly decapitating the offender is not customary. It's much too quick, almost a mercy. Don't tell me you're getting soft on us, dear."

There might have been a hint of compassion in her tone, but Reid knew her too well. As expected, her next words slaughtered any such sentiments.

"You know what they do to one of our kind who goes soft. If the Council found out about this…" she finished, a definite threat lurking in her cold tone.

Reid knew that Sarah would have no qualms about sacrificing him to further her own ambitious goals. At times, his hatred of her could only be rivaled by his disdain of humans. If he had his way, her pale, pretty body would have burned ages ago. Regretfully, she was far too important to be sacrificed merely to placate one as lowly as himself. Still, a vampire could dream…

"I assure you, I am not 'going soft' as you put it. I have an Awakening to attend tonight, and the human is not worth expending my talents." He said stiffly. Her lips curled in a sarcastic smile, but if she doubted his words, she chose not to comment. Instead, she moved toward the body, dipping one pale finger into the viscous mess surrounding the now-dead swine.

"A Negative," she says "a perfect match for the intended meal. Maybe you aren't as completely incompetent as you appear." To say he's shocked is an understatement, as this is the closest he's ever heard her come to paying a genuine compliment, but in the next breath, she reverts back to her normal bitchy self "Or more likely, you just got extremely lucky. Regardless, clean your mess up before you leave. You can get the corpse-munchers over there to do it if you'd like. I hear they haven't been fed in quite a while." She says, jerking her thumb toward the doorway where the zombies are already beginning to gather, oozing eyes fixed on the body. Then she exits, one boot flashing out to kick their rotting forms as she passes.

Zombies are one of the things they agree on. They're slow, animalistic, and almost useless, the retarded cousins of our world, but someone higher up decided to take pity on them and protect the decomposing scum. They're worse than humans, really. Reid can't spare time to feel contempt for them though, The Awakening must take precedence over his own petty wishes. Instead, he walks out the door, and long after he's gone, the wet sounds of the undead swine enjoying their unexpected treat still echo through the stone halls.


	3. Chapter 2

The wind whispered through the pitch black night, carrying dire warnings on its chill breeze. .Animals, sensing the danger, scurried away to seek shelter. Rats and other vermin flooded the alley in a living carpet, furry bodies pressed together as they fled in panic, and even the homeless who had made their shelters in the shadows of the walls sought another place to sleep. Danger was coming, and even their weak human instincts could tell them that. To stay was certain death.

They came on the wind, nothing more than another shadow in the lightless dark, carrying with them a young woman who was unconscious. She wore a dark cloak, and she was held carelessly, contemptuously, her blonde hair dragging in filth. As if on cue, the shadow suddenly halted, and the girl was flung to the ground, spat upon as if she were some tainted creature, glared at with thinly veiled disgust.

"Let this be done quickly so that we may be done with this place. We must leave no traces of our presence here" said one of the shadows. The creature removed its hood, showing a thin, pale face crowned with thick, black hair, and a beard of the same color that only accentuated its owner's pallor. They formed a ring around the girl's body, black cloaks hiding the body from any prying eyes.

Reid knelt by the girl, taking a small vial of dark liquid from the pocket of his robes. As he opened it, the other vampires stared intently at the contents, lust blooming in their black gazes at the intoxicating scent of human blood. Only the harsh command of the elder held them back as Reid tipped the vial's contents into her mouth. She swallowed reflexively as the blood hit her throat. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the newborn's nostrils flared, quivering slightly as she searched for more of the life-sustaining blood. By the time she opened crimson eyes, the shadows were gone, leaving nothing behind but the girl, the tainted hybrid creature who was the key to ensuring the humans' continued ignorance of true vampires' existence.

Reid snickered gleefully as he watched the abomination from the shadows. She looked like a lost puppy, sniffing the air, searching for more blood to satisfy her thirst. Such a pathetic, primitive creature nonetheless managed to terrify humans. He laughed darkly as he imagined what the foolish mortals would do when confronted with the true might of untainted, pureblooded vampirekind. They would quake before the combined strength of his kind as well as their accomplices. Victory was assured.

**A/N: sorry this one was so short, I'm trying to update it quickly.**


	4. Chapter 3

I awoke to flames. The fire raged out of control, and though I could smell no smoke, I felt myself burning. My throat was on fire. _No, that's not right. _I mentally corrected myself. It didn't feel like flames, it was more like the nagging itch of dryness, only stronger. Its intensity left me breathless, almost unable to think. But I didn't need to think to take care of this thirst. I relaxed as much as I could, pushing the relentless ache to one corner of my mind and stood.

The breeze drifted by, carrying a faint scent to me. It was nearly imperceptible, but that trace was enough to lead me to the source. I closed my eyes and inhaled, relying on scent alone as I stepped out of the alley. I followed the sweet trail that it left, helpless to resist its call. Like a hooked fish, I was irresistibly compelled forward. I still couldn't figure out what it was. I knew only that it would sate this horrible burning, and that was enough. What it was didn't matter to me as long as it made this torment stop.

The pull strengthened as I neared the source, the thread of scent becoming a ribbon, a rope wrapped around my neck, the burning growing more painful with every step. I broke into a run, eyes still closed, relying only on my other senses for guidance. Nothing else existed but that deliciously mouthwatering smell.

I crashed into something, I'm not sure what it was, only that it was the source, but my prize was cloaked in something, but whatever the shield was made of was flimsy, easily punctured, and I bit through it with no difficulty, unable to quiet a groan of pure relief as the liquid hit my tongue, instantly soothing that horrible burning. All too soon though, it was gone, and I tossed the container away, not really caring what it was. Already, I could feel the thirst starting to come back.

I opened my eyes, scanning my surroundings, able to focus slightly now that the thirst had dulled a little. A tall man across the street was staring at me, frozen in horror, but other than that, the street was deserted. I don't really remember what he looked like because at that moment, the scent hit me again, and I realized: _it was coming from him!_

Horrified, I looked down at my feet, hoping my glance wouldn't confirm what I feared. It did. An old woman was slumped at my feet, twin red wounds garishly marring her corpse-pale neck. I felt a momentary pang of sorrow, but the thirst was too strong to ignore. Against my will, I ran toward the man, the prey, colliding with him and pushing him against the wall as my teeth sought his neck. He didn't have the time or the strength to resist. His struggles quickly ceased, and the drained, lifeless husk slid to the dirty ground.

I was disgusted, but yet a part of me, the same part that had led me to my victims, roared in triumph. For the moment, the thirst was gone, though I feared it would return quickly. The knowledge of what I had done, of what I was, hit me as I was able to think for the first time since I woke. _Murderer, _a voice said, one that sounded suspiciously like my own said. _Survivor, _another crowed, the voice of the beast.

The murderous urge had ceased for the moment, satisfied, and the disgust had nearly faded, but a crippling wave of sorrow took their place. The pain of it drove me to my knees in the filthy street, but though I wanted to cry, I couldn't. I mourned for the two people I had killed, and for myself too. This was not me, this person, this monster who had so casually slaughtered two people she didn't even know. Gradually though, the agony dwindled, replaced by bitterness and rage. I slowly rose to my feet, dimly aware that my hands curled into fists involuntarily.

"I am not a monster!" I told myself, my voice a hiss through gritted teeth. Fang tips dug into my bottom lip, but the pain was insignificant next to the mental agony consuming me, so I ignored it. "The creature that did this to me is the one to blame."

As I stood in the dark alley, alone except for the dead, and drenched in the blood of the innocent, I released a vow into the chill night air, mentally addressing it to the one who had created the abomination I had become. _I don't know who you are, but I will find you, and you will pay for the life you have stolen from me, and the life I steal from others because of your actions. Our blood is on your hands, and not even death will wash their stain clean._

**A/N: if you read it, please review! I'm open to suggestions, so if you have an idea that you think would be good, PM me, and I'll try to make it work!**


	5. Chapter 4

Sarah sat alone in her office, enjoying a few moments of silence before the inevitable demands started. She knew they would arrive soon; they never left her alone for more than an hour or two. Often, it was much shorter than that. _If a lack of rest is the price I must pay for power, then so be it. _She mentally chastised herself. _There will be more than enough time for me to relax once this ridiculous venture is finished. I don't see why all this is necessary though, _she mentally grumbled_. It's not like this would be challenging even if the swine fought. _

She was hopelessly impatient, but there was nothing she could do to hurry the process. They were too close to victory to lose her hard-earned reward simply because of impulsivity. That was a mistake a human would make, a fatal error she could not afford to make.

Her musings were interrupted by a timid knock on the door.

"Come in" she called, not bothering to keep the irritation from her tone.

The door opened, and a young witch walked through. Sarah could feel the girl's power wrapped around her like a blanket, as if it would really protect her if Sarah truly wished her harm. Red streaks of fear wormed their way through her jittery aura, and the sharp scent of her fear cut through the still air. The girl would not be this close to a vampire if her life didn't depend on it. No matter, Sarah had hunted last night, and the intoxicating magic in the girl's blood would make her sluggish, content like a well-fed cat. It was a luxury she could not afford at the moment.

Instead, she smiled, hoping to allay the witch's fears, but the girl only paled further. Too late, she realized the thought of blood had caused her fangs to appear, turning an expression that should have been reassuring into something cold and predatory. She quickly dropped the smile, and the girl visibly relaxed.

"What's your name?" she asked the girl, hoping conversation would distract her.

"Jenna, miss" the girl said quietly, hoping that deference would protect her. "I was told to bring you this." She extended a slightly trembling hand toward the desk. From the dark cover of the book she clutched, a pair of red eyes glared back murderously. Sarah took the book, noting that Jenna flinched as she did.

"Thank you" she told the girl, remembering not to smile as she did. She shooed the girl away impatiently, turning her attention to the book. Jenna was only too happy to comply and nearly tripped as she rushed to escape the vampire's intimidating presence.

Sarah quickly flipped through the pages. There was really no need to read such garbage, so she just did a preliminary scan, making sure that none of this fiction came too close to the truth. Just as she expected, it was some pathetic drivel that could barely be considered a novel. It was just trite pseudo-romance that the foolish mortal tried to enliven by making one of the lovebirds a vampire, and a poor excuse for one at that.

It was more than likely just a delusional attempt at wish fulfillment. Many authors that wrote like this had been bitten, but not drained, and lived. The stupid mortals tried to romanticize the experience, wanting to believe they were somehow special, and that they were painstakingly chosen from the sheep-like masses because they were somehow superior.

Those egotistical little swine were too proud to accept that they were nothing more than food, a means of survival, but their idiocy served our purposes well. The one who had written this could live for now. Without knowing it, his lust for fame and fortune, and that of others like him, was leading him, as well as the rest of his disgusting species to their ruin


	6. Chapter 5

Reid strode quickly through the stone corridors, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans, silently cursing the foolish Breeder who was incompetent enough to render his assistance necessary. Couldn't the oafs at least show enough restraint to keep them alive until morning?

"Of course not!" he grumbled, mostly to himself. That's exactly why they were chosen as Breeders. Only the most incompetent and useless of his bloodsucking brethren, those deemed too dangerously stupid to be entrusted with other tasks, were chosen for this, a task that even the Council said was idiot-proof, impossible for even ones so intellectually stunted as they were to mess up. Yet they had found a way. Of course they had.

The Breeders' quarters were set a good distance apart from the rest of the compound, because the noises that often emanated from them, both pleasure and pain, were distracting, to say nothing of the fresh blood which often tainted the air around it. In fact, as he neared his destination, the scent of blood hung heavily in the air, though he knew that by now the only blood outside of a human body would have been consumed by the Breeder who had killed them. The council told them that if they killed a woman in the process of doing their duty, her blood was theirs.

Personally, he thought this only encouraged killing, and in the time since that order was issues, the number of accidents had increased. He knew that there were some that truly were accidents. Humans were ridiculously fragile creatures who seemed to die at the slightest provocation, but there were far too many corpse disposals lately for that to be the only cause of death.

Sometimes even the zombies had trouble keeping up with the death toll. Many had already been killed when their stomachs exploded from overeating. Once that happened, they were no longer useful and were to be treated like just one more corpse. He hoped it didn't happen much more, because they were running out of human servants to clean up the putrefied flesh, and he knew that if their number dwindled any farther, this task could very easily become his.

As he reached the Breeders' quarters, he saw exactly what he expected: the body of a thin, naked woman was sprawled on the floor, with the Breeder responsible for her death waiting by the doorway. It was one he knew well, the most frequent offender, Max. Of course he didn't know the man's real name. All the Breeders chose their own names, usually something short and easy to pronounce, and no one really cared.

"Again, Max?" he asked. "Do you even try to keep them alive long enough anymore?"

"Yeah," he grunted. "They break so easily though, and after that they start screaming and it makes the others jumpy. This one broke a leg, then she wouldn't shut up. I didn't mean to though, it just happened. Some break easier than others. It was an accident."

That excuse could have made sense if Max hadn't used it every time he killed one. All vampires had the power of persuasion, but in the Breeders, it was much weaker than even the weakest normal vamp's. It was barely enough to make the women enjoy an act that they normally would, making them less resisting, less likely to fight, and less likely to get injured. The Breeders' persuasion wasn't strong enough to hold a woman if she was in pain, and a broken bone or two was usually enough to break the spell. Not even he could have so many accidents without most of them being intentional.

He knew the last part of what Max had said was a lie, but there was little he could do about it. No one would care that he did it intentionally. It was just a human after all. They were everywhere and easily replaced. He refused to spend any more time in this place than necessary, so he said nothing. Instead, he turned away from the man and hoisted the body over his shoulder, noting the bone protruding from one of the legs. At least the idiot had gotten that right. Grumbling over the waste of time, he went to find some zombies who hadn't exploded yet.


	7. Chapter 6

In the Council chambers, a group of people were standing around a table. Their shouts echoed through the room, but they knew that no one would dare eavesdrop. One of the six vampires gathered would be able to sense their presence, and everyone knew that the result of being discovered would not be pleasant. It had been attempted before, and no one dared to try it again.

"You need to get those heathens under control!" hissed a witch. "If you can't choose the right people for the job, then you will find that someone else will! How many bodies have you disposed of this month alone? If this continues, you'll draw unwanted notice, and I refuse to let you destroy everything we've spent centuries working towards!" Her tirade was directed at the vampire who stood across from her, calmly enduring the rant.

"What happened to the humans is regrettable," the vampire replied. "but it was an accident. These things happen, and even if we were to personally supervise the breeding, these things would still happen. Humans are fragile, and the occasional mishap is unavoidable."

"But you can't expect us to believe that even one of your kind would be so incompetent as to cause this many true accidents. Even the mutts can keep most of them alive until they've achieved their purpose!" the witch continued, her words eliciting a warning growl from the werewolves who stood nearby.

"You're killing too many for us to dispose of properly. Several of us have been killed when ruptured stomachs rendered our services useless. Do you have an excuse for that one, bloodsucker?" a zombie growled.

"For that, you have my condolences, but you knew what your job description entailed when you committed your kind to our cause. If you believe you can worm your way out of it now that you don't like the consequences, I'm sure Leslie will be more than eager to reverse the spell that's keeping your body and mind intact and let you rot like the rest of your kind so that another, more agreeable leader may take your place."

Leslie, the witch he had indicated, nodded. "I would if he were a threat to our mission, but the corpse muncher does have a point. Your men need to exercise some restraint, especially that Max brute. He's killing too many, and it's beginning to be noticed. The bodies you leave when you hunt may be blamed on others, but disappearances on this scale can't be taken care of so easily. Humans may be dimwitted, but they're persistent, and you're leaving a trail of bodies that not even ones as blind as they are can miss! Your carelessness will ruin us all!" She was almost shouting now, and the sound was excruciating for the vampire, a fact she knew well. He refused to let any discomfort, any weakness show though, and kept his expression carefully neutral.

The vampire appeared to consider her words carefully before conceding. "You have a point. I would not wish to jeopardize our success, so I will observe the Breeders. If any need to be replaced. I will personally see that it is done."

"Very well," Leslie said, inclining her head slightly "make sure that it is done properly though, or the Council will be forced to consider you a traitor, and you will be replaced." She stated. He had no reason to doubt her word, and he knew that the Council would not hesitate to rid itself of any member that was considered a threat. He said nothing in reply, but turned and strode from the room, silently vowing to make the imbecile who had made him look foolish pay for his deeds. Max the Breeder would soon be sorry that he had ever failed in his duty.


	8. Chapter 7

After the door shuts, marking the vampires' departure, the remaining members of the council members walked out, the zombies shambled away, some of the less well-preserved leaving a trail of flesh behind. Next, the wolves exited, some already shedding their human forms in anticipation of exchanging the underground complex for the open sky. At last only the witches were left, and they too were anxious to escape the confines of the chambers. The air in the enclosed space reeked of wet dog and rot, and the evil that the vampires wore like a shroud still snaked through the air in icy tendrils, its touch slimy and nauseating. With Leslie in the lead, they exited quickly, wanting to be free of the unnatural corruption.

As they closed the doors behind them, the group let out a collective sigh of relief. On the witches' side of the compound, the sickening influence of the other members of the alliance was less noticeable, and they could breathe more easily. As they continued down the corridor leading away from the Council chambers, witches broke off from the main group, until at last, only Leslie remained. She moved quickly through the now-deserted hallway until she reached a door.

It was locked with a simple spell, one undone only by the caster's fingerprint, and cast so that it would react to temperature as well as the print, ensuring that a severed digit would be unable to unlock it. With a light touch, she unlocked the door and stepped inside. The office was small, but it served her purposes. A small desk and a chair occupied one corner. Directly across from the doorway was a bookshelf. Its shelves were lined with large, dusty books, their ordinary appearance and the air of neglect ensuring that those who allowed more than a passing glance for the shelf would find nothing of interest.

If anyone tried to touch the shelf, the illusion would be uncovered, the tingling buzz of magic alerting the person that breached it, and most likely causing them to investigate. That would lead to some very unpleasant questions which she would not be able to answer. If anyone came close to the shelf, she gave them a gentle nudge with a compulsion spell, making them move away slightly.

That rarely happened though, even when she was in her office, not many had a reason to enter. All the better for her. It would not do to have their plans discovered, and she had no wish to resort to wanton murder, as the bloodsuckers were prone to doing. She hated that she had to work with those monsters, but it was a necessary evil, one she must endure for the greater good.

As she stepped through the illusion, she felt the vibration of the magic surrounding her, the soft hum of power like the voice of an old friend. On the other side, a young girl sat cross-legged on a cot, obviously expecting her arrival. She waved her hand slightly in greeting, earning a slight smile from the older witch. Leslie sat in the wooden chair placed across from the cot, facing the girl.

"So, Jenna," she began "I assume you were able to accomplish the task I gave you?" Leslie didn't think the girl would be here if she hadn't succeeded, but perhaps she had failed, and the bloodsucking bitch had been feeling generous and had decided to let the girl live.

"Yes, I did what you told me to. I gave the book to Sarah, and she didn't suspect anything. She looked a bit hungry, but I'm not sure if it had anything to do with me. She let me go though, and I don't think she would have done that if she sensed anything. For the most part, she acted like I didn't exist."

"Good. If she didn't say anything, she probably didn't realize that you had two different types of magic. Those creatures are so disgustingly arrogant, thinking they're invincible! We can use that to our advantage though. I will schedule your Awakening quickly and get you out of here as soon as I can. Now that we know that someone else's magic can shield your human blood from them, others can take your place. You'll be safer outside, and once you're out, all you need to do is follow the plan." The hybrid smiled grimly in understanding. "It's time to turn these monsters' own weapon against them."

**A/N: Sorry I didn't write yesterday! I try to update every day. but it doesn't always happen. I know I did nothing but raise more questions, but they will all get answered, I promise!**


	9. Chapter 8

Reid groaned as he walked the familiar path to the Breeders' quarters, wondering which one had messed up this time. The humans died frequently, but two calls in such a short time was unheard of! As he neared his destination though, he realized something was wrong. He smelled blood, but it wasn't from a human. Every other time he had been called in to dispose of a body, he'd had to fight back thirst, but this time, revulsion nearly stopped him in his tracks. The smell was sweet, but cloyingly so, like rotting fruit. He dreaded what he would find once he reached his destination, but he knew that the punishment for disobeying an order would be far worse than whatever awaited him once he reached his destination.

When he finally reached the Breeders' quarters, he stopped in his tracks. Standing casually in the entrance was a tall, pale man with black hair and a beard. He didn't know the man's name, but everyone knew the Master by sight. He was the head of the Council vampires, the oldest of the vampires in the compound. The reason Reid was there was lying in pieces at his feet. The head was staring vacantly up at the ceiling, and Reid realized it was Max. The way the Breeder had acted, Reid had known it was only a matter of time before someone took care of his carelessness, but he had not realized that it was so severe that the Master would intervene. The man said nothing, but swept past Reid, avoiding what was left of Max as he exited, leaving Reid to his gruesome task.

(Page break, formatting is messing up!)

The Master left the Breeders' quarters, leaving the younger vampire to his work. He knew that Reid seethed at being so demoted, but the swine had to learn a lesson. The traitor was lucky he was still alive. Most who had done what he had would no longer be living to complain. The fool's abilities were too valuable to waste though, so the scum stayed. A short distance away from his last location was the incubation room. He passed through the shield the witches had created to keep the rest of his kind away, otherwise all of the offspring would have been slaughtered the instant they were brought in.

Inside the room were rows of beds, many of them holding sleeping forms, all of various ages. One advantage of these creatures' hybrid DNA was accelerated growth. One of the ones closest to him, a young boy, looked to be around sixteen or so. That one would have to be released soon. He knelt by the foot of the child's bed, reading the number written on a chart there, number 1259. He quietly left the room, careful not to wake any of the sleeping children. As he walked back to his office, he made a mental note to tell Sarah that several of the hybrids looked old enough. She would be scheduling many Awakenings in the near future.

**A/N: Sorry it's so short, but I hope I cleared up some things, and I hope you liked it!**


	10. Chapter 9

Under the near-full moon, a group of vampires moved swiftly through the night, a silent shadow in the dark, deserted streets. This time, they carried a young man, but they treated his unconscious form with as little respect as they had the girl's. his feet dragged in the dust, the twin trails they left erased by the other vampires' passage. Once they found a suitable alley, they spread out, blocking their activities from any human who might not have been repulsed by their evil aura. The boy was thrown into the dirt, and a vampire from the rear of the group came forward sto kneel beside him on the ground. For a moment, nothing happened, and several of the vampires shifted impatiently.

"Well, what are you waiting for, Reid? Daybreak?" one of the black-shrouded vamps asked.

"No, Master," Reid murmured placatingly. "I have to make sure the link is forged properly. I'm sure you wouldn't want one of these swine to be able to lead any hunters back to us, so this one's memory must be completely wiped. I know he will be unable to lead them to us if he is captured and allowed to live long enough to speak, but I didn't believe you wanted our existence to become known. But if you would prefer to let this one remain untouched, then I will heed your wishes."

"No, of course I don't wish to be discovered. Do what you must." the older vampire replied. It infuriated him that this lowly leech spoke to him like that. Any vampire who dared to be even half as insolent as this repulsive creature would have been slaughtered slowly, but talents were irreplaceable. The hybrids had fleeting memories of life before their release even though they were sedated as often as possible while they were growing. Reid was the only vampire they knew of that had the ability to wipe memories while leaving the rest of the mind undamaged.

When they were newly awakened, the hybrids often went on killing sprees to sate their thirst. That was the second reason they were kept sedated. While they were in the incubation chambers, they were surrounded by others of their kind, all with at least partially human blood. If they would have been allowed to be conscious, the result would have been a bloodbath. It had happened before, and the vampires had no wish for that setback to be repeated.

On the ground, Reid was busy. He knelt with the tips of the first two fingers of each hand on the hybrid's temples, motionless, his eyes closed in concentration. as he sifted through the child's memories for the fleeting recollections of its birthplace. The hybrids often had a few memories from their brief spells of lucidity, and those could be difficult to find among the dark veil of nothingness that occupied their minds until they were Awakened.

The Master doubted that a vampire hunter would ever let one of these abominations live long enough to explain what they knew, or believe them if they did, but he could not allow that to be a possibility. As long as the hunters thought the pathetic creatures they captured were true vampires, they would have no reason to suspect that the monsters they had nearly hunted to extinction centuries before were hiding right under their poorly developed noses. They would be satisfied, believing that they were succeeding in their quest to extinguish vampirekind when all they were really doing was ridding the vampires of their weak bastard children.

He spared a contemptuous snort for the foolish, blind humans. Their ridiculous overconfidence in their own abilities was sickening, but useful. He sensed an uneasy stirring in the vampires around him, and noticed that Reid had finished and was opening the vial of human blood. Centuries of practice had made the lure of blood almost nonexistent unless he was hunting, but the others were younger and resisting it was an effort for them. He tipped the crimson contents down the hybrid's throat to awaken the vampire instincts that had lain dormant while the creature slept. By the time the creature opened blood red eyes, the vampires had disappeared, leaving no sign that they had ever been there. The youngling wandered off into the night, searching for blood and blissfully unaware that he was nothing more than a decoy.


	11. Chapter 10

The man scurried through the darkened streets, senses alert, scanning the pitch-black streets for any traces of his quarry. He had tracked the abomination for months now, and the hunt was drawing to a close. The prize that had so long eluded his grasp would soon be his. The vile, unnatural fiend would be exterminated, whatever worm-ridden mockery of a soul it possessed damned to wander eternally. The hunter smiled grimly, his expression little more than an animalistic baring of teeth.

_The beast was crafty_, he grudgingly conceded. Every time he thought he would succeed in snaring the fiend, it managed to slip away. Tonight was different though, he could feel it. The creature was growing weary, making foolish errors, almost like a human child in the dark. At times, it blundered through the night, leaving a trail of bodies in its wake that even a blind man could follow. The only reason the animal hadn't been captured before then was that the official cause of death was always something other than a vampire, something safe, predictable, explainable: starvation, old age, suicide, anything but what it really was.

People didn't want to see the naked truth, so they clothed it in justifications and excuses, rationalizations that had served the human race well for centuries, allowing them to ignore the monsters in their midst. Their ignorance allowed the beasts to thrive, to feed off of people at will. It didn't help his cause that those daft authors kept writing books portraying those creatures like sensitive, tragic heroes. It was disgusting, but the youth ate it up, too blinded by the romance of it to see the truth staring at them with fangs poised, ready to tear out their throats.

That was why he took such pride in being a Hunter. Only he and the others of his profession, those who had sworn their lives to eradicating the bloodsucking blight, possessed the wisdom to see through the romance and ignorance that blinded most of humanity to the existence of these beasts. He would not rest until the monsters were eradicated, returned to the evil that had spawned them.

A light drizzle had begun, but he paid it little attention. His prey was moving slowly now, tracking its next victim, no doubt. the Hunter intended to vanquish the creature before it could make a meal of another innocent. He slid the sword he carried from its sheath. It was an archaic weapon, but he had yet to find a better weapon for decapitating the creatures. He was grateful that the vampire's devilish power kept weak-minded mortals away, because the weapon could not be explained away easily, and trying would just waste time better spent tracking.

He narrowed the distance between them cautiously, but the abomination was too intent upon his prey, a stooped old man dressed in rags who hunkered in the shadow of a building, to notice the Hunter's nearly silent footsteps. Before the man had a chance to react though, the beast lunged, sinking fangs into the old man's neck, oblivous to all but the blood he drank. With a rush, the Hunter rushed forward, swinging his sword with the ease of practice, severing the demon's head. The rest of the body slumped forward against its victim, while the head rolled toward the small pool of light cast by a dim street lamp. As he went to retrieve it, the man noticed that the light made the creature's skin seem to sparkle. He dismissed it though, considering it unimportant to the objective, and tossed it toward the rest of the body.

**As he neared the beast again, he realized with a start that he had accidentaly severed the old man's windpipe in the process of killing the vampire. Realinzing that there was nothing he could do to save the man, He cleaned the sword's blade on the creature's clothing, He then pulled a lighter out of his pocket and lit the beast on fire, disappearing into the night as the flames consumed the monster.**


End file.
